I have a problem

I am apparently addicted to T-shirts. Not T-shirts with slogans on them; all but a very small handful of those were weeded out years ago. My obsession is with plain V-neck T-shirts, mostly in gray, black, and blue, with a few other random colors — brown, green — thrown in there for variety.

These are what I wear to the gym and around the house almost every day, and layered under other stuff when it’s cool.

The T-shirt shelves at Target are a siren song for me. They manage to find perfect shirts more often than not: lightweight, sleeves not too long on the short-sleeved ones and long enough on the long-sleeved ones, generous length so they don’t expose my back when I sit down, and just the right amount of V: not too much, not too little. They’re flattering.

Two cubbies in my closet are dedicated to T-shirts, one each for long and short sleeves. Lately, because of my repeated forays into the black hole of the Target T-shirt department, those cubbies have become overstuffed, and putting freshly laundered T-shirts away and getting them out to wear has resulted in more than a few avalanches. I’ve also recognized that there are some that I just never wear for reasons I didn’t remember.

So, this morning I tackled the T-shirts as part of my February manini project. I took them all out, tried them all on, and found an even dozen to put in the bag for Goodwill. I refolded them and put them back, mixing up the order so that those I haven’t been wearing are now on top of the pile. I could probably stand to get rid of a few more, but this was a good start.